Talking To The Rain
by panclarks
Summary: Edward, Bella's best friend of six years, has left her for New York to live with his father, Carlisle, and his new stepmother, Esme. Devastated and hurt, Bella slowly tries to rebuild her life, gaining other relationships and new friendships for herself. But upon graduating high school, she is accepted at NYU—and is in for a surprise of a lifetime. There will be lemons. AH.
1. Breathe

**Thought of this story while listening to the song _Breathe_ by Michelle Branch (Chapter name is also credited to song title). I don't know if I'll be updating this as much and as regularly as my other story, Poseidonology, but I'll definitely continue writing. I plan for almost everything to be in BPOV so unless stated as otherwise, I won't be labeling the chapters as to whose POV it is anymore.**

**There will be lemons in the future, I hope soon. Sorry, minors.**

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Edward and I gripped our hands together tightly and began jumping on the bed, bouncing from one mattress to the next. There were three beds in his room, and he had them all to himself after his two siblings, Alice and Emmett moved to New York after their parents' divorce when Edward was around 7. Feathers from the pillows were now all over the place, filling the room entirely, looking like there was a blizzard.

"Okay," Edward breathed. We were still jumping on the bed, and laughing like there was absolutely no tomorrow. "What do you say—we try jumping—from the first bed—to the third?" he said as we bounced together, still holding hands. I was almost fearful that we would wreck the bed which was probably not strong enough to handle two eleven year olds; but at the moment, I was much too happy to care.

"You're crazy!" I cried out, but the excitement in my grin was evident, ear to ear. "The bed in the middle's almost queen sized!"

"_And _made out of lava!" Edward yelled as his eyes widened in feigned surprise. "Are you ready?"

"No!" I replied, although still grinning.

Edward ignored me and began to count, the grip on my hands getting tighter. His palms were a bit sweaty, but I held them as tight as he did all the same. I was with my best friend, and I'd just given him his dream acoustic guitar as a birthday present moments ago. He was extremely happy and began bouncing on the beds with me, and I wanted to share that happiness with him, even though at the moment, I didn't understand why I was so drawn, why I felt the need and want to share it with him in the first place.

"One—" he began, excitement almost plastered on his face. We were about to make the jump.

I continued. "Two—"

Before we even reached the count of three, we both bounced from the first bed to the third, hard, landing on our backs, completely avoiding the fake lava that the giant bed in the middle held. We were now lying down, laughing endlessly.

"So basically that sums up how much I love my gift, and my best friend," Edward breathed deeply, closing his eyes. I was much too young to think second thoughts about the words he had just said, and considered the love that we both shared completely platonic. Edward's been my best friend since we were both five years old, when I first moved in from Phoenix with my parents. I'd spotted him flipping through an album of his Pokemon trading card collection in his yard which was right next to mine, and I couldn't resist gushing out about my mutual love for the little pocket monsters with him. The minutes stretched into hours while I conversed with him for that first time, and his father invited me and my parents over shortly for some cake. Long story short, Edward and I have been the best of friends ever since.

"You are most welcome, sire. But you have to pay for that, just so you know." I joked, now fumbling under the quilt that was lying underneath us. I tucked myself in, and covered my head, playfully.

Edward suddenly joined me inside the sheets, and even in the darkness, his bright, green eyes glowed. "But… we don't have any money to-" He began, his voice now sad.

"Relax, Edward, I'm kidding!" I said, lightly slapping my hand against his shoulder and releasing myself from the sheets. "The guitar is all yours, and I'm glad that it is. And it's free of charge. Now you can play all the time, any time!"

Edward sat up from the bed, excited. "And I don't have to keep borrowing the old creaky one from the school's music room anymore?" the look on his face was priceless, the sudden realization that he can play the guitar any time he wanted now dawning on him. He jumped up from the bed and hugged me tightly, locking me in his long, limpy, eleven-year-old arms.

I patted him awkwardly in the back and smiled, pulling ourselves back to the bed, sitting down. "I get it, I get it. You're happy," I said, chuckling. "You better take care of that, you hear me? That cost me three of my piggy banks!" I pointed to the shiny new guitar that I had just given him that was neatly placed in the corner of the small room. The orange light from above shone before the wood of the guitar, and I could almost see me and Edward's reflection from where we were sitting, on the bed. I realized then, as I looked at our reflection, how lucky I was to have a best friend like him.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Of course I'll take care of it! I'll even name it!" Edward exclaimed, standing up again, his bare feet planted firmly on the mattress of the bed, as if he were going to announce something extremely important. He slouched down all of a sudden and helped me stand up on the bed with him for a second time. "I know!" he said loudly, his voice ringing in my ears. "I'll name her after you!"

"Me?" My eyes widened. "You'll name it Bella?"

"No, of course not," Edward snickered, and my eyes widened even more at the realization of what he was about to say. "I'll name her _Isabella_," He said, and he laughed even more.

I shuddered. I hated that name with a steaming passion. I folded my arms and turned my back against him, slightly upset. "You said you'll never call me that, ever again!"

"I'm not going to call _you_ that, I'm calling my _new guitar_ that!" he defended, and he put his hand on my shoulder, trying to make me face him. I shrugged it off.

I felt Edward roll his eyes again. "Okay, fine. I won't call the guitar that anymore if it makes you feel upset," he sighed. "But like I said before, it's a really pretty name, you know. "

I faced him now, and let out a nauseating "bleargh" sound, while Edward smiled and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear.

"It's a pretty name for a pretty girl," he said softly, as if unconsciously, and I felt myself blush. I looked away and tried to think of something quick to change the subject, but my thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of wood banging against concrete.

"What happened here?" The door suddenly swung open loudly, and out of nowhere, there stood Liz Masen, Edward's mother, who had probably just come home from a long day of work. She looked absolutely horrified at the mess that Edward and I made, a storm of feathers on the floor, some sticking on the walls.

"Edward, please don't tell me I'm going to have to be the one to fix this mess!" Liz shouted, putting her hands on her hips. Her eyes were wide in anger as she eyed me, and I took this as my cue to leave.

"I'm—I'm sorry Mrs. Masen," I said, remembering now to call her by her maiden name out of fear."I'll leave now." I would sometimes slip and call her "Mrs. Cullen" instead, her name before she and Carlisle, Mr. Cullen, got divorced. And whenever those slips happen, she would give me a look that was so scary that I would almost regret that I ever stepped foot in Edward's house. But Edward always defended her—it was he who begged Carlisle that he stay with his mother instead of going to New York. For some reason I could never fathom, Edward had always favored Liz Masen over Carlisle Cullen.

I gave Edward a quick hug goodbye and whispered in his ear to call me when things were better between him and his mom.

"Just go, Bella," Liz said, shaking her head, her eyes closed in frustration. "Just go."

I gave Edward a last look as I closed the bedroom door behind me. I thought I caught a small smile that greeted "good-bye" escape from his lips, but I brushed it off and made my way out of the Masen –Cullen residence, a shiver down my spine. It began to rain as soon as I stepped outside, and without an umbrella at hand, I hoped for the best for Edward as I braved it through the giant drops of water.


	2. Slide

**I've decided to use song titles for the chapters' names and in the process hope to create a playlist for this story. This chapter's song will be Slide by The Goo Goo Dolls, one of my absolute favorites that I never get tired of.**

**Also, this disclaimer goes for the whole story, so that I don't have to repeat it over and over: Stephenie Meye owns Twilight and all related characters, and I only play. And add lemons and fluff when I can. Because I like lemons and fluff. The title "Talking to Rain" is from the song "Breathe" by Michelle Branch, which I also do not own. The best I can do with this song is make terrible covers out of it (that I will never upload EVER)**

**Anyway, yes. This one will be a bit short. Enjoy.**

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"Moving _where_?!" I shouted in response to Edward, horrified. He was now crying, trying to hide his tears as he buried his face in his hands. He asked me to meet up here at the playground in the park, and we were now sitting on the swings; he said he had bad news. I guess this was it.

"You know where," he mumbled, and I could barely hear him, because his lips were still stuck somewhere in between his palms. But I did, and I knew. I knew where.

"You can't move all the way to the other end of the _country_, Edward!" I yelled, now even more terrified than ever at the thought. New York was literally on the other side of the US, probably more than a thousand miles away from Forks, Washington.

I felt tears well up in my eyes too, and they began to fall silently. "Look—it's my fault. I shouldn't have given you the guitar and we shouldn't have made a mess in your room. We'll fix it. I'll do it by myself if I have to, and—"

"It's not that," Edward interrupted, his eyes red and puffy from crying. "Mom says she's been planning to move to Canada for years now. She said I couldn't go with her, that I have to go to New York with my dad instead. She can't afford to take me with her…"

"_Canada?_" I cried. "Your mom's moving to _Canada?"_

Edward nodded, tugging at the roots of his hair in frustration.

"So even if you stayed with your mom, you're going to have to move anyway?" I asked, prying his fingers out of his hair. He never let go of his bronze hair whenever he was stressed or frustrated, always tugging at its ends.

"I don't want to burden her anymore," said Edward. "She's right—I'll just be adding extra weight on her shoulders if I went with her, and she'll have to pay for so much stuff again for me and—" He let out a heavy sigh before he could finish, his voice thick and hoarse from crying.

"When are you leaving?" I asked the inevitable question, still horrified. I was now holding Edward's hand tightly to comfort both myself and him.

"Next week, after school ends," he said sadly, and more tears welled up in his eyes, dropping one by one on his cheeks.

I gave him a tight hug, and never wanted to let go. "Please tell me you're joking, Edward." I said, now crying harder than ever. "You're joking, right?"

"I guess it won't be all that bad, I mean, I'll get to see Alice and Emmett again…" he trailed off, ignoring my question. I suddenly felt jealous of his siblings who were now going to be spending so much more time with Edward than I was.

"Don't go, Edward," I cried into his shoulder. "Just stay here in Forks, and I'll make room for you in my bed. Charlie and Renee won't mind, not one bit, I promise…"

Edward let out a sad chuckle and shook his head. "You're being silly again, Silly Belly." He teased. He always said that whenever I would say something that he thought was ridiculous.

I stood up from the swings that we were sitting on, now frustrated myself. I walked few feet away from Edward, near enough for him to stand up from the swing as well so he could follow me.

He grabbed me by the hand and wiped the tears away from my eyes. "I'll write all the time," he began, cupping my face against his palm. "I can even try to call, long distance. I'm sure dad won't mind."

Edward's father, Carlisle, was one of the kindest people I had ever met, and I was as sure as Edward was the he really wasn't going to mind at all. What would a few long distance calls mean to someone who raked in as much money as Carlisle, a surgeon in one of the biggest hospitals in New York?

"But that's not enough," I said to Edward, feeling selfish. "I'll miss you. I'll miss you so much," and I embraced him tightly again, crying into his shirt. He reciprocated, locking me in his limpy arms as well.

"I'll miss you too," he said, smoothing my hair out. "You'll always be my best friend, Bella. My _bestest_ friend."

I felt more tears spill out of my eyes as he said the words. "Always?" I asked.

"Always." He gave me a soft peck on the forehead and continued to caress my hair. "Love you, Bells."

That was the first time he said those words. They rang in my ears and I felt my heart jump, but told myself that he'd meant it as a gesture of our truest friendship. What else could those words mean for an eleven-year-old anyway?

"Love you, too." I said back, and hugged him even tighter.

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**I'd love to know what you guys think so far. Drop me a line when you can :3**


	3. Hope

**Song for this Chapter is [Only] Hope by Switchfoot, which I prefer over the Mandy Moore version. No offense to any MM fans, though. I love her version as well, but the Switchfoot one matches this chapter better. Plus I like the acoustics.**

**Special shoutout to Jara who *might* be reading this. Yes, this means I'm giving you permission to silently judge me now, har-har.**

**Lettuce begin.**

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It was official: I hated Edward Cullen.

It had been three weeks since he moved out of Forks and out of my life. Three long, dragging weeks spent waiting by the telephone, by the mailbox, and by the dial-up powered computer for any sign that Edward still cared, that he wanted to talk to me. But there was nothing; not a single phone call, not a letter, a package, not even an email. Nothing.

I scrunched up my eyebrows and eyed the phone, now deeming it an enemy. I was sick of waiting for it to ring, and sick of the false hope it would give every time it did, especially when the person on the other line wasn't Edward—it would always either be one of Renee's friends, or one of Charlie's colleagues from the station. But never him, never Edward.

Sighing, I marched to the kitchen, grabbed myself a tub of Ben & Jerry's, and stormed into my room. My parents would be out all day, busy at work, and I had the house to myself. Sulking, I recalled how I would usually have Edward over at times like these, but he was gone, all the way at the other side of the country, and all I had with me was this stupid tub of cookie dough-flavored ice cream.

As soon as I reached my room, I climbed up to my bed and buried myself in my sheets, trying to remember what I would usually do in my free time whenever Edward wasn't around. I scoffed. Whenever Edward wasn't around? When did that ever happen?

Well, it was happening now.

Letting out a deep breath and trying not to cry, I sat up from the bed and began to fumble around with my belongings, opening closets, drawers, and school bags, looking for anything to entertain myself. In the end, I opted for my wardrobe, and without thinking, I began to throw on some of the new, girly clothes Renee bought me that lay forgotten in the corner. I rummaged further and started trying on different blouses and experimenting with different colors of skirts, trying to see which ones matched.

After choosing a bright red dress that I'm sure I've never spotted before, I twirled around in front of the mirror, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear and trying out different poses.

I wondered what Edward would say to all of this. Whenever he and I hung out, I would usually just be casually dressed, always wearing nothing but a flimsy shirt and some blue jeans on, topped off with a pair of sneakers. He had never before seen me in a dress, except for the moving-up ceremony we had in pre-school. But even then, I'd worn a toga on top of the little floral drop-down that Renee had put on me. So that wouldn't count.

Still imagining my best friend's reaction, I abruptly looked at my fingernails and noticed how unattractive they looked. My mother always wanted to drag me to the salon for a manicure with her, but my dad had always said I was too young.

"Oh, please," I muttered under my breath, imagining my dad in front of me, his hands folded across his chest. "I'm eleven, Charlie. I'm definitely old enough." I said, still eyeing my fingernails.

Suddenly getting an idea, I cleaned up the mess I made of my wardrobe and ran towards the masters' bedroom, where my parents slept. Opening the door and making sure I would leave no trace that I ever entered the room, I sneaked in, looking for my mother's manicure set.

After what seemed like forever, I finally spotted it tucked away in one of the drawers in the room, and began rummaging through the box. "Gotcha," I whispered to myself, successfully holding a small bottle of pink nail polish. I opened it slowly and put my nose against the tip of the bottle and gagged at the smell. "Ew!" I squeaked, and put it back in the box. "No way I'm leaving my fingers smelling like _that_," I said, and left the room.

I pulled off the red dress as soon as I made it back to my closet, and put on the shirt and pants I was wearing before I decided to play dress up. I realized then that my secluded friendship with Edward had left absolutely no room for me to try and make friends with people of the same sex, and for me to try and venture into other… girly things. Sure, I was acquainted with a few girls from school, like Jessica Stanley, one of my seatmates, but we never said anything outside of "hello", "how are you", and "Did Miss Spinnet give out homework last Friday?"

Losing hope of Edward ever contacting me again, I felt determined to make a fresh start for the upcoming school year in September, a few months from now. School just ended, so that meant I couldn't make friends with my classmates as of now. But I had other neighbors who weren't Edward. Surely I could be friends with them, right?

I felt a pang in my chest, suddenly missing him again. I was hurt and upset that he didn't call or write back, but that didn't mean I wasn't allowed to miss him right? And the thought of finding new friends and neighbors that weren't Edward… I shuddered at the thought, but promised myself that I would try.

Mom came home at around 7, and told me dad would be arriving late because he was fixing some extra paperwork back at the station. She held a paper bag in her hands, full of groceries, and I helped her set them down at the table.

"Oh, sweetheart, I almost forgot," she said, rummaging through her bag. "Dr. Cullen sent me a fax at work today. It's from Edward. Here." She handed me a piece of paper that was neatly folded in half, and my hands began to shake as I reached out for it. It was Edward. He hadn't forgotten about me after all. He had written.

My heart beating fast in excitement, I opened the fax, scanned it, and looked at my mom with bright, glowing eyes. "I'll be in my room!" I shouted, and without looking back, I ran upstairs and rushed to my bedroom, closing the door behind me with a slam. Edward had written. I had never been so excited in my life.

I jumped up on the bed and opened the thin, folded fax paper, scanned it, and quickly held it against my chest. He had written. My best friend had written. I was still in his life.

"_Hey Bella,"_ the letter began, and I felt a huge smile place itself on my face. I read the rest of the words in Edward's voice.

"_Hey Bella,_

_ I'm really sorry I haven't written or called. I tried, honestly, I did. But I really didn't have the guts to ask dad if I could use the phone, or write. I knew he said he wouldn't mind, but then it dawned on me when I got here that he'd have to go through a lot of trouble for me to make a call across the country, or to write a letter and have it sent to the post office. I think too much, you know that, right? I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I hope you're not mad."_

I laughed. He did think too much, but at the same time I understood where he was coming from. He hadn't seen his father since he was seven—I imagined that things would be a bit awkward between them, trying to rebuild the remnants of the relationship they had in the past. I continued reading the letter:

"_But I just couldn't resist anymore after yesterday, when dad asked me to join him in the car ride to the hospital where he worked. He asked me what was on my mind out of nowhere! I guess I was too quiet. So I told him. I told him about you, and how much I missed you and stuff, and how I was too shy to ask permission to write or call you. Then he told me I could use the fax machine at work, so I could write this letter to you right away and send it over in a jiffy! My dad is so awesome._

_We live in a condo here, and it's really big. I share my room with Emmett. I missed him a lot, and I missed Alice too. The three of us had ice cream the other day, and I had your favorite: cookie dough flavor. New York is really big, and really different from Forks. I wish you could see it. It's really pretty out here._

_ Oh, and I was in for a surprise, too, when I got here. Dad has a girlfriend. Can you believe it! A girlfriend! Her name's Esme, and she's really nice too. She took me and Alice and Emmett out to the park last week, while dad was working at the hospital. I like hanging out with her. She's really cool._

_ I miss you Bella. I don't know when I'll see you again, but dad promised he would try to take me back there to Forks for a visit, when I'm a bit older. He has a pretty busy schedule. I'm really sorry. Just know that I think about you every day. Write back soon and tell me how you are, Silly Belly! I still hope you're not mad. _

_ Love,_

_ Edward_

_P.S. When you write back, send over your e-mail address if you have one. Dad says I can use the computer at home any time I want! Internet is a bit slow, though."_

I sighed deeply as I finished reading, and I could feel tears of happiness well up in my eyes. He was doing well, he missed me, and he hadn't forgotten about me. He even promised to visit someday! I jumped on the bed, reminiscing on one of me and Edward's last face-to-face moments together, when we bounced on the three beds he had in his room here in Forks.

"Bella!" my mom cried from below the stairs. "What on earth is taking you so long? Dinner will be ready in five!"

"I'm coming, mom!" I yelled back. I folded the letter neatly and pressed it against my chest before hiding it in the empty pine box my mom gave me for my 9th birthday. "I'll keep you safe, right in there, okay?" I said, talking to myself, gesturing towards the letter and closing the box. I promised myself I would write back to Edward as soon as I finished dinner.


	4. Trouble Sleeping

**Credits for this chapter's title goes to Corinne Bailey Rae's song of the same name.**

**Enjoy.**

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June 17, 2010.

It's been exactly six years since the day Edward left for New York with the promise of returning, even if just for a visit.

"_Dad promised to take me back to Forks for a visit, when I'm a bit older." _He said in that letter he wrote me all those years ago, I recalled as clear as crystal.

That promise never came.

Brushing off what I now deemed were useless memories, I put on a last touch of mascara on my lashes, puckered up my lips a second (or third?) time, and headed towards my wardrobe to wear the new shoes Jessica and I had bought from Port Angeles last week. It was prom night, and I was considered as one of the luckiest girls in campus to be going out with Mike Newton, one of the popular kids. He and I had been seeing each other for the past couple of weeks—he had short, messy auburn-blonde hair, and his face was a bit long and drawling, but he somehow pulled it off. He was definitely no Edward, but throughout the years, I had learned not to associate any of my candidates for the ideal man to the boy with the green eyes who had left me nothing but false hope.

Just then, the doorbell rang abruptly, snapping me out of my thoughts. "Shit," I muttered as I struggled with one of the straps on my right shoe.

"Bella, sweetheart, Mike's here!" I heard my mom call out below. Working double-time, I finally fixed the cursed strap of the shoe and walked towards the mirror, checking myself for the last time before I headed downstairs.

My scarlet-red halter dress was nothing short of perfect, and its skirt flowed down to the ground, covering my feet. I felt like a princess and smiled to myself, feeling proud of all the time I've invested in making myself look pretty for tonight. I grabbed a pair of silver hoop earrings from my dresser and put them on quickly, as well as a silver charm bracelet that I had gotten from my dad for my sixteenth birthday last year.

Two short knocks on my door suddenly surfaced out of nowhere. "Sweetheart? Come on, Bella, Mike's waiting." my mom beckoned softly, a smile on her face. Her head was sticking out of my bedroom door. Swiftly, I twirled around in my dress twice. "What do you think?" I asked, feeling pleased.

Renee walked forward and cupped my face with her right hand, and planted a soft kiss on my cheek. "You look beautiful, sweetheart. You look absolutely to die for." She said as her smile turned wider, and I beamed at her.

We made our way downstairs where Charlie was making small talk with Mike, and as soon as I stepped foot in the room, they both gaped, their jaws almost dropping to the floor. I grinned. "What do you think?" I asked the question again

"You look amazing," Mike said, his gray eyes glistening. I felt myself blush.

Charlie stood up and walked towards me, giving me a peck on the cheek where my mom had, as well. "You look incredible, Bells. Absolutely stunning." My dad sniffed. " You're a grown-up now," and his wide smile reached his ears, and created soft lines around his eyes.

"Thanks, dad," I said, feeling myself go red again.

Charlie turned to Mike after our little moment and cleared his throat. "Have her back by eleven, or else." My dad half-joked, pointing his index finger to my prom date. I rolled my eyes and groaned. "Oh, dad," I said. Mike suddenly grabbed me by the hand, and I held it back. His palms were wet with sweat.

"I could have her back by ten, if you want, sir." Mike winked awkwardly. My dad chuckled. "No need to be a kiss-ass, Newton. I trust you." And they both laughed. "Take care of her, alright?"

"Yes, Chief," Mike nodded, and he opened the front door for me as we made it to his car. My mom started waving as soon as we got in. "Be safe, honey!" she cried out, giving me a flying kiss. I flew her and Charlie one back, each.

The ride to prom was a bit quiet, and I felt myself lost in my head again. The car drove past the park and the playground, and I remembered Edward again, this place being one of the last that we spent together in.

I huffed at the thought of him, frustrated. Everything was going so well at first, when the move was still fresh; we wrote to each other almost every week, and we would go on and on about how we were doing and how much we wished each other well. But soon, as time passed by, we slowly ran out of things to talk about, awkwardness lingering in the atmosphere every time we tried to chat with each other on the internet. His signatures at the end of his letters devolved from "Love, Edward" to "Best, Edward," and soon, I stopped getting replies from him completely. I couldn't blame him; I admit that I had stopped replying to some of his messages and letters as well, not out of bitterness, but out of the possible mutual understanding that he and I just weren't best friends anymore. Time changes things, and as I grew older, I began to accept that.

"_Always" my ass._ I scoffed as I remembered the day he told me he had to leave for New York, the day that would change my life forever.

Mike suddenly snapped me out of my thoughts, and I came back to reality once more. "You seem awfully quiet, Bella," he said, and I could see he was worried, although his eyes were on the road.

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking about… my childhood," I said truthfully, playing with the silver bracelet on my wrist.

"Why? Because we just passed by a playground?" he chuckled. He didn't know about my past friendship with Edward, as Mike only moved to Forks in freshman year.

"Yeah, the playground," I said, shaking the thought off_. Tonight was prom night, for Pete's sake_, I said to myself. Tonight, I would have fun until my curfew would allow it, and I wasn't about to let any thoughts from the past ruin the night.

"Tonight's gonna be great," I smiled, holding Mike's hand, the one that was on the clutch. He looked at me and smiled, and he caressed the back of my hand with his thumb before he put his hand back on the clutch.

And it was. Prom night was a great night. Mike had won the crown for Prom King, although I had lost to one of the prettier girls, Angela Weber. I didn't mind a bit; Angela was one of my good friends, and if anyone in Forks High deserved the crown, it had to be her.

The next year that came by was the most stressful one I've ever experienced, as it was spent waiting on acceptance letters from the various colleges I considered. I tried for schools like Purdue, and the University of Washington, among others. But I hoped and aimed the most for Brown, my dream University. My second choice was NYU, not because it was nearer Edward, whom I've chosen to forget, but because of their programs in Psychology, specifically the Honors one. Besides, the last I heard, Edward wanted to go to Dartmouth, and the last time I checked, New Hampshire wasn't in New York.

After months of waiting, the time finally came when the results came in. I rushed in my car going home, and when I finally reached the driveway, I spotted Renee standing beside the mailbox, a letter in her hands. I eyed Brown's seal immediately. _Holy fuck._

I clumsily parked my Civic and bolted my way towards my mom, my heart thumping fast. This was it, the moment of truth. Whatever the results were in the letter, it would contain my future, and I felt nauseous at the thought of it alone.

"Mom?" I called out, but she was staring at the words written in the open letter.

"Mom!" I called again, shaking her this time. I grabbed the letter from her hands, and she crossed her arms and looked at her slippers.

"_Miss Isabella Marie Swan,"_ the letter started. It went on and on about how there were hundreds of thousands of applicants from all over the world who wanted to get into Brown, and how the screening process took place. However, this information was useless to me. I skimmed the letter further, digging my eyes deep into the body of the middle paragraph.

"_We regret to inform you—"_

That was all I needed to know. I felt tears stream down my cheeks.

My mom locked me in a tight embrace, rubbing my back. I dropped the letter from my hands in shock. "I'm so sorry, honey," she said, and I could feel that she was almost as sad and disappointed as I was.

"There's still hope, though," she said, letting go of the embrace to face me. "I opened the rest of your letters that came in this morning. I had to. The University of Washington's hasn't come yet, but Purdue has..." she began to smile, and my eyes widened.

"I got into Purdue?" I asked, a smile now forming across my face.

"Purdue _and_ NYU's Undergraduate Honors program," my mother beamed, and at her words, I began to laugh endlessly, grabbing Renee by her hands, jumping up and down on the grass.

"Sweetheart, calm down!" she laughed, bouncing and jumping along with me, as well.

"I get to choose?" I exclaimed, still laughing from the excitement. I had the opportunity to choose. I could choose! My mind suddenly began to rattle itself with the pros and cons of choosing Purdue over NYU's Honors Program, but decided to brush it off at the moment. And I still had to wait for The University of Washington's acceptance letter, too.

I couldn't sleep that night, tossing and turning in bed until the late hours of the morning. I wanted to choose Purdue and take a research-based course, too, but NYU's Honors Program—it sounded too tempting.

_But what if I ran into Edward there?_ I asked myself, finally admitting one of my worst fears.

"Bella," I whispered, talking to myself. "There are probably a million people in the city of New York alone. There's no way you're bumping into Edward Cullen." I reassured myself. And if he was going to Dartmouth, which I'm sure he would get accepted in with flying colors, then I had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Right?

Comforting myself with this thought, my eyes began to drift off to sleep, my mind finally decided. Tomorrow, I would talk to Renee and Charlie about NYU, and I would brush all worries about bumping into Edward aside. The Honors Program was much more important than a petty little fear of bumping into a childhood friend. I drifted off into unconsciousness after a few minutes and into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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**Reviews are like, oh god, those Unicorns from AngstGoddess003's fic Wide Awake. I need them in my lyf. Oh, and if you haven't read WA yet, then shame on you it IS THE MOST AWESOME FIC EVER. PM me or go to google for a pdf copy! :D**


	5. I'm Not Yours

**Chapter title credited to Angus and Julia Stone's "I'm Not Yours". I have many feels for this song, and I wish to share them with you through this chapter. *creys***

**This one will contain both EPOV and BPOV. Hope you enjoy!**

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**EPOV**

"Are you sure?" Carlisle asked, the look of concern evident in his features.

"Positive." I nodded, taking a sip of coffee. My older siblings, Alice and Emmett, both had errands to run, and so I was left to have breakfast with Carlisle, who was on his way to work. We needed to discuss the rest of my plans for college which was going to start in a little less than a few months, and by choosing NYU over my dream school, Dartmouth, I was stressing him out.

"You've always wanted to go Dartmouth," My father sighed, stirring his coffee and casually taking a sip of it as well. "You don't need to take a pre-med course, Edward. I'm not forcing you to. You can follow whichever path you please, where you career is concerned."

"I don't _need_ to, dad. I want to. I want to follow _your_ path." I argued. I was accepted into Dartmouth, but I didn't get the degree program that I wanted. I was stuck with a slot in Fine Arts instead, when I wanted so badly to take a pre-med course. In NYU, my second choice, however, I was accepted in the BS Biology Honors Program, which meant I could pursue medicine after I graduated. This was my chance to live the dream.

"Besides," I continued, "That means I'll be nearer home, and nearer Alice and Emmett. And you, of course," I said, waving my hand casually.

My dad argued back. "…But Dartmouth, Edward. And fine art—you've always had a passion for it. You don't have to throw that away."

"I want to assure you that I want the Biology Honors program more than anything, dad. I want this. I don't think anyone can change my mind." I said sternly.

After a moment of silence, Carlisle finally sighed, giving up. "Very well then," he said, and gave me a nod. He finished the last of his coffee, took a final bite of his toast, and began to stand up. "We'll send a reply to NYU as soon as we can."

I stayed in my seat, a smile now plastered on my face. I wanted to stand up and give Carlisle a tight hug, but we didn't have that touchy-feely father-son bond that other people were lucky enough to have. I remained seated, and thanked him instead.

"You're most welcome, son." Carlisle nodded, grabbing his coat from the rack. "You don't have any plans for today?" he asked before nearing towards the door.

I shook my head. School was over, and all I had to do was to wait until the day that I receive my confirmation letter from NYU, and I would be off to college. I thought about what to do for the day, but my mind responded with a complete blank. Maybe I could head to the park and sketch in a while…

"I'll probably head to the park," I said, announcing my thoughts, still remaining in my seat. "Maybe pack some lunch, sketch some passersby."

"Alright son," He nodded curtly. "Enjoy yourself. And I hope you've made the right decision. Good luck." He proceeded out of the door and closed it gently before leaving.

I sighed. I never got the relationship I wanted from Carlisle. We talked from time to time, and bonded when we could over coffee and TV, but for some reason, it was never enough. He provided me with everything I needed and paid for everything I had—the best clothes, books, art supplies, and gadgets that money could buy. But still. It was still never enough.

As soon as I was sure I was alone in the house, I went to my room and booted up my PC. Opening my Facebook account, I quickly went to the searchbar and typed the all-too familiar name: Bella Swan. Should I even tell her about NYU? I asked myself, now hesitating. Soon, I let go of the mouse and keyboard, putting my hands on my lap. It would probably be a bad idea, I decided.

Bella and I had stopped communicating as regularly as we did before, and I wouldn't blame her. This was all my doing. After a few years of writing, emailing, and the occasional long-distance phone call, I finally decided that it would be best for us both that I let go of my dreams of ever seeing her again. The hope that I would return back to Forks one day was completely crushed and pushed down by the thought that a few visits to my hometown were probably never going to be enough regain the friendship that Bella and I once shared.

And so we drifted apart. And as time passed I began to slowly accept the fact that she and I were probably never going to see each other again. Bella would be happy with her new friends; she would be happy with some other boy who wasn't me. And although it used to pain me to think about that, I cared for her welfare more than I cared for myself. This was better than having her hope on nothing, and this was for the best.

Still on her Facebook account andlost in my thoughts, I stared at her profile photo for what felt like hours. Her skin was as perfect as porcelain, and her cheeks had a tint of rose in them. Her dark locks flowed with elegance down to her shoulders. And her smile…

I snapped out of my thoughts, shaking my head. "It's over, Edward. You're over this girl." I said to myself.

I closed the Facebook tab and shut down the PC, grabbing my sketchbook instead. Maybe it was time to go to the park, and clear my mind of my thoughts of Bella. Taking a quick shower and getting dressed, I grabbed the house keys, shoved them in my front pocket, and proceeded towards the door. I was out of the building and on my way to the park in minutes, my mind wandering on other things that weren't her.

**BPOV**

"Ugh, it's too tacky," I complained, trying on a canary blouse from Burke's, one of my favorite places to go shopping in in Port Angeles. I was with Jessica and Angela, my high school friends, and our first day of college would be starting in a few weeks. We were accepted into different universities, with Jessica going to Cardiff, all the way in Wales where some of her relatives were settled; and Angela, in the Wharton School, in the University of Pennsylvania. There were no words to describe our excitement, and a much needed shopping trip was scheduled for the three of us.

"It's not _that_ bad," said Angela, but Jessica begged to differ. She grabbed the blouse I was holding and put it in our "No" basket, along with the other rejected pieces of clothing. "When in doubt, don't." She simply said. There was already a mountain of clothes that we deemed unworthy for us, and I felt a pang of guilt for whoever it was who had to fix the mess we made in the store.

I went over to one of the racks after declaring the canary blouse unfit for my taste (yellow was never my color of choice when it came to clothing). I spotted a plain, beige, long-sleeved turtleneck instead, and both Angela and Jessica caught my expression as a smile emerged from my face. Grabbing the turtleneck, I turned to the girls.

"This baby definitely goes in the 'yes' pile," I stated, nodding my head.

Jessica rolled her eyes, laughing. "You haven't even tried it on yet, Bella." She said, and grabbed the blouse from my hands yet again, but this time, holding it against my shoulders. "But okay, it does look good. It looks really good. " She said after a while, finally giving out her verdict. "Try it on and we'll see if it does look awesome."

I smiled as I grabbed back the blouse from Jessica, and made my way towards one of the dressing rooms. I quickly struggled to put on the turtleneck, but after I was done, I stared at my reflection, satisfied. It did look good on me.

"Bella!" Angela called all of a sudden from outside, knocking on the dressing room door. "Try these on, they'll look great with that beige thing you just got!" She said, sliding a pair of dark brown, knee-high boots from under the gap of the door.

My eyes widened. The boots looked absolutely lovely, and as I kicked off the ballet flats I was wearing and replaced them with the knee-high shoes, I gaped at myself in the mirror. The make-up I was wearing complemented the dark brown of the boots, and the beige turtleneck all but completed the look, piecing everything together. I opened the lock of the dressing room door and stepped outside. Angela and Jessica gawked at once. "I'm so sorry, your majesty," Jessica teased playfully, her hands on her hips. "We're not worthy."

Angela burst into a fit of laughter at Jessica's comment, but whispered "You look amazing," as soon as she caught her breath.

Out of nowhere, Jessica's eyes suddenly widened, and she snapped her fingers. "I know just the thing!" She said, and I furrowed my brows, confused. She went along one of the racks and retrieved a dark gray—almost black—Houndstooth patterned scarf. She draped it around my neck, and I went to the nearest mirror to check if my clothes were a perfect fit. They were. _Now_ my look was definitely complete.

"The boys had better get ready," said Angela, grinning. "Because they'll all be lining up for you at NYU."

I smiled at my reflection. I had come a long way since the needy, semi-depressed, "I-need-Edward-back" stage of my younger years. I beamed at myself once more, feeling proud. Who needed Edward when I had everything I needed in myself?

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**As usual, would love to know what you guys think :D**

**Also I've been getting a handful of followers ever since I've posted this story 2 days ago, and I'd like to thank each and every one of you who read this story and support me in this whole writing thing which I'm kinda new at. You all rock my socks. Much love!**


	6. Hello, Goodbye

**This one will be a bit long. Chapter title's credits goes to The Beatles, although I don't really think the song fits the mood of the chap. But oh well.**

**To the guest reviewer who's asking if Bella's, well, saving her V-Card for Edward, we'll find out more about that later on. Tee-hee. *iz excited for them lemons***

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It was time.

I placed the last of my belongings in the trunk of my car, struggling to make them fit. The backseat was crowded with my stuff as well, and was filled with two large suitcases and several boxes of various sizes. Trinkets, clothes, shoes, and other necessities were neatly placed in their respectful containers and I huffed, looking back at the beauty that was my Civic, which now looked like I tried to fit my whole house inside it. The only seats that remained empty were that of the driver's and passenger's, where Renee and I would be taking turns behind the wheel, as the drive to New York was going to take around two days.

Mike had decided to see me off; he wasn't going to leave for college, in Ellensburg, until a few days later. As soon as I was done fixing up the last of my things, Mike held my hand, his palms carrying the usual sweat. It made me feel a tad uncomfortable, but since this was going to be the last time we saw each other in a really long while, I decided to brush it off. He and I had decided to remain friends, as I'd opened up to him that I was uncomfortable with long distance relationships (i.e. the Edward Cullen incident). We broke off in quite good terms, and decided that it was probably time to see other people in college. But still, this didn't stop Mike from being a good friend and seeing me off in the absence of Jessica and Angela (who had already left), although he was crossing a boundary by holding my hand.

"You have everything you need?" he asked, still not letting go. I nodded quickly, subtly trying to remove my hand from his grip. Sighing, I turned to look at Renee, who was now awkwardly smiling at how Mike and I were interacting. She felt a bit sad about me and Mike's decision to see other people; she recounted the other guys whom I've date before, some of who were extremely rude; Mike was one of the nicer guys, my mom said, and was quote, "worth holding on to". But I would be lying if I told her I agreed; I always knew that Mike and I wouldn't last.

"Your tickets are with you, mom?" I asked, squinting against the sun, which shone bright today. My mom quickly answered with a "Yes, sweetheart," and opened her purse, showing me her plane ticket that would take her back to Forks from New York as soon as she was done helping me move in into my new apartment. I was definitely keeping my Civic with me in the move.

Now all ready to go, I gave Mike a flimsy hug good-bye, asking him to check on Charlie and Renee from time to time if he could. My dad was already at the station, and he and I said our goodbyes in the morning.

"You take care, okay?" Mike smiled, and awkwardly, I smiled at him back. I nodded yes and gave him a high-five, and was inside my car within moments with Renee beside me, leaving Mike standing alone in our driveway, waving. Taking a last look at Forks, I felt myself tear up a bit, but forced myself to hold back my possible emotional fit, as my mom would probably join me if I did. She smiled at me from the passenger's seat. "All ready to go?" she asked.

I looked back at Mike again, who was still waving, and then to our house, which I would miss dearly. Taking a deep breath, I replied. "All ready to go." I said, starting the engine.

The drive was long and exhausting, but after around 48 hours, mom and I finally made it to New York. Leaving her to talk details with the giddy landlady of my new apartment, I heaved my suitcases to the elevator: the building was small and didn't offer much assistance, but it was nice and had a cozy, homey feel to it all the same. I was excited as my mom and the landlady, Mrs. Truman, held the elevator door open for me; this was it. I was moving in. College would start in less than two weeks. This was the first step in living the dream.

As soon as Renee was done talking about the final details of my move with the landlady, who looked more excited than I was, she lifted the rest of my boxes into the elevator and joined me inside, Mrs. Truman following suit. She was a nice lady who was probably around the same age as my mother, although I would guess she was a bit older. She gave me a beam and started asking me questions about college, if I was excited, and if I had a boyfriend. I answered all her questions politely, although I lied about Mike, saying that I had someone special that I left back in Washington.

"Ohhh," she exclaimed, putting her right hand against her lips. "You better be careful, dear. Long distance relationships never work out. Trust me, I know." She said, rolling her eyes. I wanted to nod in agreement, recalling how Edward and I failed to keep our friendship, but as I had just lied to Mrs. Truman about Mike, I realized that I couldn't. I smiled at her instead. "We'll see how it goes, then." I said.

Finally, we made it to the tenth floor, where I would be staying. Mrs. Truman held the door at the end of the hall open for me as I heaved my things towards it, and as soon as I saw the inside of my new apartment, I gaped, completely astonished.

There were already nice, red couches situated in what I assumed was the living room, and there was a nice little table in the middle, which had a little replica bonsai plant, that held the room together. The walls were made out of red brick, although some of them, like the ones in the kitchen, were concrete and cream in color. There was a nice little island where the kitchen was, and a silver refrigerator on the side. Small paintings of flowers adorned the walls, completing the look of the apartment. The windows were all huge, and I felt myself suddenly adjusting to the sunlight; there was never any in Forks. On the side of one of the couches lay a side table, with a small lamp and a telephone.

"It's… it's fully furnished?" I asked both my mom and Mrs. Truman, and they gave me a smile, each.

"Of course!" my mom said. "I only want the best that I can afford for my baby girl," and she engulfed me in a tight hug. Mrs. Truman winked at me and I smiled at her back from behind my mom's shoulder.

"You didn't have to, mom. I mean, I have that job at tutoring those kids at the private school… I could've bought the furniture myself," I had gotten a job as a tutor for several kids in Grove High School, one of the biggest private schools in New York. Impressed by my grades, several parents took me in. I would soon have the duty of tutoring at least five kids once or twice a week, and I would have to juggle all of that along with my academics. I couldn't complain, though. Each of the parents promised to pay me a hefty amount. Cha-ching.

Renee looked at me funny, after hearing what I had to say about the furniture. "That's nonsense, honey", She said, waving her hand off at me. She began to examine the rest of the apartment, and it wasn't until then that I noticed a door that probably led to my room.

"Mrs. Truman?" I began, eyeing the bedroom door. "You wouldn't mind if I took a look inside the bedroom, would you?"

She smiled. "Oh, not at all, dear. And please," she continued, "Call me Judy."

Excited, I gave her my thanks, and opened the door. I felt like I've been gaping the whole day since we arrived at New York, and for the nth time, my jaw almost dropped to the floor again.

In the middle of the room stood a queen-sized bed with ochre sheets and pillows that looked almost golden. Behind it, there was a headboard that also served as a miniature bookshelf, and I felt a wide smile form on my lips at the realization that I had a space to put all my books in. On top of the bed were open wooden shelves drilled to the cream-colored wall. On either side of the bed were two side tables, each holding a lamp, and on the right of the room was a huge bay window made almost entirely of glass, save for the bars that held it together; on the left was a door that led to the bathroom, its tiles similar to the one that I barely noticed outside.

"It's amazing, Judy!" I exclaimed, and step foot in the room, running towards the bed. I laughed out of excitement, and my mom joined me on the bed, lying down by my side.

"I'll leave you two some with some private, mother-daughter time," Judy winked, and closed the door. I hugged my mom tightly, almost feeling myself tear up out of happiness.

"Thank you so much, mom. This is… this is all so surreal," I said, the realization that I would live alone in this city for the next four years suddenly dawning on me. This time, tears really did fall from my eyes.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" Renee asked, now sitting up. I followed her gesture.

"Nothing," I said. "It's just… I'm scared. I'm really scared now. And I'll miss you. I_ already_ miss you," and I hugged her tight.

She began to tear up as well, just as I had expected. She always cried whenever I did. "I'll miss you too, Bella. So, so much. You'll be okay. I know you will."

The two of us had lunch shortly after, at a nearby café. We had to say goodbye afterwards, as Renee would have to go back to work soon. I enveloped her in another tight hug, and we exchanged tears and I-love-you's. I drove her to the airport where we said our final goodbyes, and soon, I was watching her plane back to Washington take off, from the glass window where I stood.

As soon as I got back to my apartment, I hid inside the sheets of my bed, trying to comfort myself. I was now alone, in a city where I knew absolutely no one except my landlady. Closing my eyes, I began to recall the night Edward and I spent jumping on his three beds, and how we briefly hid under the sheets. For a moment, I wished he were beside me; I would have felt more comfortable knowing a single soul in the city of New York; but I brushed it aside. Edward now had a life of his own, as did I. There was no use in hoping—even if we did bump into each other in this huge city, what was going to happen? We would probably end up forcing out meaningless conversation out of our mouths, with nothing but uhm's and ah's escaping from our lips. I needed the old Edward. My best friend. But he was long gone- and as soon as this thought sank into my consciousness, I drifted off into sleep, not realizing that there were little droplets of salty tears falling on the sheets.

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**I'd like to hear more of your thoughts on Edward. What say you guys?**


	7. Bella

**This chapter will be in EPOV.**

**Chapter title credit goes to Angus & Julia Stone's song of the same name; one of my favorite songs. And yes, they do. They do have a song called Bella, and gives me lots of feels. Argh.**

**Anyway, yes. Please enjoy this chapter!**

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**EPOV**

Tired from staying up all night, I opened my eyes. They were met with the ceiling of my room, and as I sat up and glanced around, I eyed the four guitars that were displayed neatly in the corner—two Fenders: a Stratocaster and a Jaguar, a Nylon-Stringer Classical Ibanez, and finally, the first guitar I had ever owned, the one given to me by Bella for my eleventh birthday: an acoustic, steel-stringed Taylor. I narrowed my eyes at it, remembering the day that Bella had gotten it for me vividly like it had just happened yesterday.

"Fuck you. What are you looking at?" I asked it, talking to myself. The guitar was unresponsive.

"I did the right thing. It was for the best." I said, frustrated. This, Exhibit A, would be one of my fucked-up, occasional routines ever since I'd decided to cut off ties with Bella; seeing that guitar would always make me feel guilty, and I always had to convince myself that I did the right thing. Which I know I did.

And I did. Right?

I decided to go to a nearby deli for breakfast; Carlisle, Alice, and Emmett were nowhere to be found. They probably already left off, Carlisle going with Esme or to the hospital to do some rounds, and the other two probably at the Barnes & Noble where they both worked morning shifts during weekends like today.

Locking the door, I proceeded towards the nearest deli I could find, walking from our apartment. What was awesome about living in New York, I learned, is that anywhere you went, almost everything you needed was presented to you on a silver platter.

I finally settled for a deli nearby named Sebastian's, and ordered myself a bagel with some coffee. Deciding that there was probably nothing better to do at home, I bought my sketchpad with me and began to randomly draw passersby or people ordering their breakfast at the deli.

All of a sudden, my phone began to vibrate in my pocket. It was from Jasper, my closest guy friend of all intents and purposes, who also happened to be dating Alice. If there was one word describe Jasper Hale, it was _douche, _which I've been calling him since we first met. We went to high school together where we pulled the nastiest pranks on everyone else, and have become inseparable partners since. We would conveniently be going to NYU together as well, and although I was never comfortable enough to tell him, I was glad that we were.

"_Where u at?"_ the text read. I typed in a quick reply and within ten minutes, Jasper appeared by the window, knocking on the glass, waving. Almost everyone in the deli stared, and I hid my face in my palm. He always did douchey things like this all the freaking time.

"How's everyone doing?" Jasper greeted, the customers of the deli completely ignoring him. Douche. He grabbed the seat across me and sat down, almost bouncing.

"So I see you're…" he began, eyeing the sketchpad and pencil I had at hand. I rolled my eyes.

"Doing your emo thing again," He continued. I ignored him and continued sketching the old man who sat alone in the corner, drinking his coffee.

"Let me see that," Jasper said, and he grabbed the sketchbook away from my hands, my pencil dragging across the paper, ruining the drawing. I groaned, and let out a "Fuck, Jasper" from underneath my breath.

He sighed, shaking his head slowly. "You see," he began, smiling after looking at my sketch of the old man. "It's emo shit like this that keeps all the chicks away from you! You gotta draw nicer, happier shit, Ed. Take for example, that girl—"

I looked at the direction his thumb was pointing at, where there stood a girl with semi-long, chestnut brown hair that flowed to her shoulders. Her back was facing us, but I could already tell she was beautiful. I felt myself gawk at her, and Jasper had to re-attach my chin to the rest of my mouth.

"You like that floral blouse thing she has going on, don't you?" He said, wiggling his brows, being the douche wingman that he was.

"One hot cappuccino and an oatmeal cookie for Bella, to go?" The person behind the counter called.

Wait. For _who?_

The girl spun around upon the mention of her name, confirming what I feared. All the way here, in New York City, stood Bella Swan, in a floral blouse, tight-ass jeans, and beige pumps. And she was—holy shit.

She was fucking beautiful.

Grabbing her drink and cookie, she smiled at the person at the counter and said thanks, but I was still staring at her like an idiot, awestruck. Was it possible? Could it really be her?

"Dude, what the actual fuck," Jasper snapped, and I quickly regained my thoughts, looking at him with serious eyes.

"Jasper," I began. "It's her."

He took a bite of my bagel without permission, and with food in his mouth, he mumbled. "Who?" He asked, crumbs falling on his lap and on the table.

"It's _her_." I repeated, emphasizing the last word.

Bella didn't as much as glance at me as she proceeded towards the door and out of sight.

Jasper, who still had food in his mouth, widened his eyes, shocked. "No way, man," He said, looking behind him, at the spot where Bella took her drink and cookie. "No way." He repeated.

I was still gaping at the door where Bella had left, my mouth almost unattached to my chin again.

"That can't be her, Ed. She's in _Washington._" Jasper said, looking me straight in the eye.

I realized quickly what Jasper had said. We were in New York City. Bella was in Washington. And Washington was all the way on the other side of the country. It was impossible. It couldn't be Bella. Could it?

"But—" I began. "But the guy at the counter, he said her name—"

"So what?" Jasper exclaimed, waving off his hand at me. "There's gotta be hundreds of thousands of other girls in this world with that name. You're being stupid, Edward."

I nodded quickly, snapping myself out of my thoughts. "You're right," I said. "It's stupid. That couldn't have been her. Maybe—maybe I was just imagining things or something," I shook my head, but felt a pang in my chest as well. I was sure, so sure, that it was her.

"You have that emo look in your eyes again," Jasper said, lightly punching me in the shoulder. "It's alright, man. There are other fish in the sea. And you said you were over this girl, didn't you?"

"I did," I nodded. "I did."

And I hoped to God that I was, because if what I saw was the real deal- if it really was Bella Swan that I saw in this deli, two thousand miles away from Forks, Washington- I wouldn't know what to do for the life of me.

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**They'll be meeting very soon. Are you guys excited? :D**


	8. The Beginning

**Chapter title credit goes to John Legend.**

**As soon as I finished writing this chapter I've noticed that I've probably been building you all up recently and I'm sorry about that, but don't worry. I promise and swear on my grave that the next chapter will be the epitome of lemon heaven.**

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**BPOV**

"So how was your trip to the deli, dear?" Judy, my landlady asked as soon as I reached the apartment. Taking a bit of my oatmeal cookie, I sighed.

"I thought—I thought I saw an old friend," I recounted, thinking of the person that I caught a glimpse of at Sebastian's earlier. I had only glanced at his hair, which was as bright and bronze as Edward's. I'd hoped and feared, at the same time, that it was him- but I hadn't seen Edward in almost a decade. I only had a faint idea of what he looked like now, as I've started to avoid his Facebook profile like a plague as much as possible, in order to completely forget about him and his false promises.

"Oh?" Judy asked. "Why didn't you say hi?"

I gave her a smug smile. "Kind of been trying to erase him from my life for the past, I don't know, eight years?" I said honestly, not watching my words. Knowing my landlady, she would probably ask me more questions, and it was not until she raised her eyebrows that I realized I just spat out information I was not comfortable talking about. _Brace yourself, Bella_.

She surprised me though, and shook her head. "That must be nasty. If you've been trying to erase him from your life, then I don't think that makes him a friend of yours anymore, don't you?" Judy simply said, and I felt like a wasp just stung me in the chest at the realization.

"No," I agreed. "I guess not."

The rest of the week, I spent trying to get acquainted with some of my neighbors. Rosalie, the girl whose apartment was directly below mine, was beyond nice, and way beyond beautiful. The day she first knocked at my door, she was holding a tray of cookies, and I almost gawked at her long, blonde hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. She was completely flawless. I quickly invited her in after that, and we started getting to know each other better; I learned that she attended Grove High School as well, where my future students-slash-tutor-targets attended.

The next day, she and I went out to buy some groceries at the nearby supermarket, and we bonded over our mutual interest in attending college at NYU. She would be taking up a double degree in Social Science and Psychology, and I thanked the gods that I at least knew one person in this city before college started. I told her how lucky I felt I was to have met her before school, and she blushed.

"There are way cooler people out here than I am," she said, grabbing a jar of peanut butter from the rack at the grocery aisle. "You'll see when you get to school. Or better yet, at tonight's annual Last Dance. You can come with me, if you want."

"Last Dance?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Mm-hmm," Rosalie nodded. "_The_ Last Dance. It's a yearly thing we have at Grove." She started. " All of the upcoming college freshmen who'll be attending college nearby, like in NYU, go to this party at the Tent, it's this events place near our apartment." Getting some condiments from the rack, she casually continued, explaining. " It's sort of the last party we ever hold before we all go to college."

"And you're inviting me?" I asked, dumbfounded. "But I'm not from Grove," I said. In fact, I haven't even heard of Grove until I got myself that tutoring job. Surely attending this party would make me an intruder of sorts?

"No one's gonna know, or even care, Bella," Rosalie said, chuckling. "It's a party, for God's sake. People meet new people at parties. And I'm sure there are gonna be hundreds of upcoming freshmen there. No one will even notice. Outsiders crash all the time, too."

Still feeling a bit shy as Rosalie was a fresh face, I shook my head. "Maybe I'll pass," I said.

"You're sure?" She asked, giving me a disappointed look. "You'll get to meet other people, lots of them. And most of them are also attending NYU, like I said. Grove kids who go to NYU happen to be really hot, too." Rosalie wiggled her brows.

"Meh," I huffed, getting a jar of peanut butter and several other condiments from the rack as well. "Maybe next time," I said, and Rosalie shrugged, giving me a quick "Suit yourself," before we proceeded towards the counter to pay for our stuff.

~O~

"Oh for Christ's sake," I muttered, having trouble with the strap of the same pair of shoes I had worn to prom. I never got the chance to show them off, as my dress that night covered my feet. And so, since the night of prom, the shoes lay forgotten, stored in a box for a year- until now.

Rosalie had somehow managed to convince me to attend The Last Dance tonight, and I had absolutely no idea how. What was planned to be a night of sitting on the couch while having a Friends marathon on my laptop was now to be a night of dancing, alcohol, and possibly heavy petting with fellow upcoming freshmen. I sighed, but I had to admit; I was a bit excited, too. My last sexual encounter, I recalled, shuddering, was with Mike, at prom night. It didn't work out so well, but I was glad at my ability to fake my orgasms.

Suddenly, a knock on my door surfaced. "It's Rosalie, sweetie," the voice from the other side called. Finally fixing the strap of the cursed shoe, I walked towards the door and opened it, and there stood Rosalie at my door, looking more glamorous than ever. She wore a shiny, blue dress with black peep-toe heels that matched her glistening purse.

"You look fucking gorgeous," I muttered, letting her inside my flat. She raised one eyebrow, and simply replied with a "Look who's talking?" eyeing me from head to toe. I wore a halter floral-print dress, much like the blouse I had worn to Sebastian's the other day; and the brown strap-on heels I had worn to prom.

"Please," I huffed, trying my best to sound humble. "This is nothing."

Rosalie dragged me to the mirror near the living room, and we both twirled, laughing, looking at ourselves.

"Look at us!" she said, playing with the hem of her dress. "We're total dick magnets!" I laughed at her comment, and I agreed. We did look stunning.

We took Rosalie's car to the Tent, which was only a few blocks away from our apartment. Taking a few turns, we finally made it, and the moment we stepped foot at the venue, I gaped in astonishment.

The Tent was _literally_ a tent; it was white, and it was huge, and the lot where it was settled in had to be at least as wide as three apartment buildings, plus a Starbucks. There was grass all over, and upon looking above, I saw the night sky—it was beautiful, and there were lights everywhere.

"Welcome," Rosalie said, catching me gawking. "to New York."

She held both of my hands after my little moment, and we both jumped in excitement, briefly. "This is awesome, Rosalie!" I exclaimed.

She rolled her eyes. "And you're the one who didn't want to go!" she shouted over the bass of the loud music. There were huge speakers placed at almost crevice and corner, and excited, Rosalie quickly dragged me to the bar that was situated in the middle of the Tent. Rosalie began to fumble inside her purse, got her phone, and started texting someone, who I assumed were some of her friends. I ordered a shot of vodka from the bartender, who winked at me playfully. I smiled, but turned my back on him. I wasn't interested at the moment, or not drunk enough to be interested, at least. Trying to spot other people I could have small talk with, Rosalie began to dial her phone, shouting over the music.

"Jane!" she cried, waving somewhere far. "We're here! We're by the bar!"

I spotted two people run towards us, trying to push away the crowd. The first was a petite, blonde girl whose hair was almost so long, it almost looked like Rapunzel's. She wore a black and white dress with matching pumps, and along with her was a guy who was a tad vertically challenged, who also happened to look very much like the girl. I guessed they were brother and sister.

"Bella!" Rosalie called, and I briskly walked forward. "This is Jane and her twin brother Alec. We had AP History together at Grove," she shouted. Jane curtsied and Alec gave me a bow, and they laughed together, giving each other a special high-five afterwards.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Bella," Alec said, shaking my hand. Jane gave me a short hug, greeting me with a smile and a "So glad to meet you!" I liked her immediately.

"Let's wreck this joint!" Rosalie announced, and together, the four of us ordered several shots of Bacardi, and made a toast. "To college, and to new friends!" Jane said, raising her shot glass.

We followed her gesture, and gave out hoot's and woo's before taking the shots. Soon, more of Rosalie's friends came, most of them gorgeous, flawless girls, some of who reminded me of goddesses and valkyries from the mythology books I would usually borrow from the library back in high school.

Midnight approached swiftly, although I felt it had only been around an hour since I met Jane, Alec, and the rest of Rosalie's friends. We were so drunk that Rosalie began to wobble and settled herself on the grass, and some of her other friends, both boys and girls, followed suit. Soon, there was an entire circle of at least seven people, including me, sitting upon the grass. Alec wobbled forward, holding an empty bottle of red wine as he sat down with the rest of us. I knew where this was going.

Everyone gave out a loud hoot in unison, and Alec placed the bottle in the middle, spinning it. It spun and spun around, until finally, it pointed towards Jane, who was as red a strawberry.

"Truth, dare, or shot?!" Everyone asked, and Jane blushed red even more, which I didn't think was possible. Finally, she decided. "Dare," she said, feeling confident.

One of the girls in the group, Tanya, raised her hand all of a sudden. "Wait! I have the perfect dare for Jane!" She giggled, and everyone scooted closer to her, eager to hear what he had to say.

"I dare Jane…" she started. And Jane turned all the more red from excitement. Tanya continued.

"I dare Jane to make out with Alec!"

Jane's eyes widened, and she responded. "I take it back!" She cried, half-laughing. "I take it back! Shot! I'll take a shot!"

Rosalie lightly pushed Jane's shoulder. "You know the rules, Jane. No taking anything back. You said dare, now we dare you to make out with Alec!"

Giving out a deep breath, Jane sauntered towards Alec, who look terrified, but was laughing all the same. She helped him stand up, and he tried to resist, but Jane quickly pressed her lips against his. It lasted for about three seconds, before Alec pushed her away.

"Ha!" Jane said, sitting back down. Alec wiped his mouth violently with the back of his arm, feigning disgust. "I'm so hot, even my own sister can't take her hands off me," he said. Everyone laughed.

Soon, almost everyone got their turn to choose between truth, dare, or a shot, and before I knew it, the bottle spun towards my direction.

"Ooooohhh, the new girl!" Irina, another one of the girls in the group giggled. I blushed, drunk.

"Truth, dare, or shot?" They all chanted in unison.

I tried to think hard in my drunken state. I was too hammered to take another shot, and I never chose truth whenever I played spin the bottle. My secrets were all mine to keep. "Dare," I finally said, my voice a gigantic slur.

Rosalie smiled evilly, thinking. She scanned the Tent and finally set her eyes on the bar which was near the place we had settled in, and eyed a tall, auburn-haired boy who looked just about as drunk as we were, ordering what I would guess was probably the hundredth shot from the bartender.

"I dare you, Bella," She began. "To stand up, pretend to be sober," She then pointed at the auburn –haired boy, "Hit on Edward Cullen, and ask for his digits."

Wait, _Who?_

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**Ok, sorry for keeping all of you waiting for so long, but my quota is at the most 2000+ words per chapter, which I have already reached. I hoped they would meet here, but as I've reached my word limit, I've decided to put off the meeting until the next chapter. I will post it hopefully in a few hours, so don't fret. We'll be getting the steamy, lemon-y action that you and I have both been waiting for soon ;)**


	9. Drown

**Both POV's but mostly EPOV today.**

**Chapter title credits go to The Smashing Pumpkins.**

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**BPOV**

"Edgar who?" I asked, too hammered for the life of me to even start thinking straight. I thought I had just heard Rosalie ask me to get Edward Cullen's number, but my drunken self decided to brush it off. My mind always played the dirtiest tricks on me whenever I was drunk. This was probably one of those moments.

The group laughed, and feeling determined, I took off my heels, stood up, and made my way towards this mystery person. This wasn't the first time I would ask a boy for his number, so how hard could it possibly be?

I tried to walk with swagger without my heels. Pretend to be sober, they said. How the hell could I possibly do that when I've taken at least ten shots of alcohol in the past 2 hours? Still, I walked towards the boy with the auburn hair, trying to mosey along with my legs, which felt like they were made of cherry Jell-O.

I finally made it towards my destination, my bare feet now sore and itchy from walking through the ground and the grass without shoes on. Shoving people away lightly, I made it to the bar in the middle of the Tent, and lightly as I could, tapped the boy—if you could call him that—on the shoulder.

**EPOV**

Jasper laughed; he was sober, promising Alice (who was an incoming sophomore and who wasn't attending the party, having some alone time with her girl buds at a nearby bar), that he would be tonight's designated driver. "Bro, I think someone wants to meet your acquaintance," he said before excusing himself, needing to take a smoke. I spun around at the person tapping me from behind, and before I knew it, in front of me stood a girl, completely hammered, her face as red as Rudolph's nose. In spite of this, though, she still had me gobsmacked; she was the prettiest girl I've ever seen, and I wanted to drown in the pool of her brown eyes. Her hair was still in order despite of her drunken state, her curls bouncing; she was still tapping me on the shoulder despite the fact that I had already turned around.

"I see you now," I laughed, my vision extremely blurry from the alcohol. I felt like I was about to pass out, but I kept myself together, grinning at this gorgeous girl before me instead. Her dress was beautiful, like the floral blouse I spotted another girl wearing at Sebastian's the other day.

"Edwaaaaaard," The girl slurred, and my brows suddenly furrowed at the mention of my name. How could this girl know who I was?

"Oh it's so good to see you, you lying fuckhead!" She said, and punched me playfully on the shoulder. My head spun, trying to make myself piece all the theories I could form in my head as to how this girl knew who I was, and how she could call me, quote, a lying fuckhead. I've never played around with anyone before that I knew of or treated any girl disrespectfully, and had only ever dated anyone seriously once. Tanya and I never worked out, and we broke off right before graduation at Grove.

"Hey," she said loudly, purposefully deepening her voice, still lightly punching my shoulder continuously. She was being silly as she was drunk, but she was still adorable. "You owe me—you owe me- lots of shit, a _ton_ of shit, Edward Cullen." She said.

"Oh? " I asked, playing along. She suddenly locked me in an embrace, and I unknowingly returned it; as soon as we pulled off, I looked at her face, observing her features. Her high cheekbones were perfectly placed, tiny hints of freckles on either side of her cheeks, and she still glowed a bright shade of red.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," she began, "For a lying fuckhead."

I wiggled my eyebrows at her, still playing along. "Can I buy you a drink?" I asked.

"It's the least you can do," she slurred, and I ordered her a martini from the bar. She swirled the toothpick that contained the olives around the glass, and she gently placed one between my lips. Fuck. That turned me on.

"You like that, huh, you dunderhead?" she teased, and I nodded, now softly pressing her lips onto mine.

"Woah there, cowboy," I heard Jasper suddenly exclaim from behind out of nowhere, and he held my shoulder lightly. "Who's this?" He asked. Letting go of the kiss and spinning around to face him, I realized that I still hadn't asked the girl for her name, and felt a bit embarrassed.

The girl emerged from behind me, now showing herself to Jasper. His eyes widened at the sight, his jaw now dropping. I eyed him. "She went up to me, first" I said, joking, as Jasper was already happily taken by my sister.

Still sober, he had his eyes on the girl, who tried her best to gracefully saunter forward to him, although failing. She reached out her hand. "Bella Swan," she greeted, and still awestruck, Jasper took her hand back, and shook it slowly. His eyes were still wide and gaping.

"I told you bro," I said. "She went up to me first. Unless you'd prefer this already-taken gentleman over myself…?" I asked the girl, jokingly.

Jasper suddenly pulled me aside, a bit farther from the bar, and the girl stood where we'd left her, crossing her shoulders. "What the fuck, dude!" I said loudly, trying to pry Jasper's grip from my polo. "She and I were getting somewhere!"

His eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea who you were just fucking talking to?" He said, eyeing the girl whose arms were still crossed, glaring at the two of us.

I laughed, winking at the her. She winked back. "Well she just said her name was 'Bella Swan'," I hiccupped.

Jasper raised both his eyebrows at me, gesturing towards the girl. He raised his hands and held my shoulders, then proceeded to lightly slap me across the face several times. "Wake the fuck up, man. 'Bella Swan'? Ring any bells?" he asked, a look of panic still evident in his features.

Bella Swan.

Bella Swan, Bella Swan, Bella Swan.

Holy _shit._

I felt myself suddenly begin to sober up. "Bella—Bella Swan?" I choked.

Jasper's eyes were wide still, and he nodded. I looked to where the girl stood from afar, and true enough, there stood before my eyes Isabella Swan, hammered as fuck, in a gorgeous floral dress, without any shoes on. She was even more beautiful than when I last saw her eight years ago. Her chest had blossomed, and in place of the limpy eleven-year-old bestfriend I once had, were curves all over. Her make-up, although slightly smudged, made her look even more gorgeous, and she rolled her eyes at me, limped forward, while I did nothing but gape.

"What are we gonna do, man?" I asked Jasper. I was quickly beginning to sober up without even realizing it.

"We? " He asked, laughing. "You mean _you._ What the fuck are _you_ gonna do?"

Bella was getting closer, and I felt like I wanted to barf. What the_ fuck_ was I gonna do?

As soon as she had approached, she twirled her finger around my chest, and I felt myself stiffen up. "You are _rude_," she slurred, huffing. She was still drunk, and she was starting to lose her balance. I held her in place. "Bella?" I asked.

"Ed—Edward." She tried to reply as sternly as she could. "Edward? Edward, I think – I think I'm going to be sick," she said. Expecting a pool of vomit to form on my shoes, I braced myself for the worst, but instead, Bella collapsed in my arms, completely unconscious. She had passed out.

"Who is she even with?" I asked Jasper; swiftly, he pointed towards the circle that a group of people had formed in the middle of the Tent, who were still playing spin the bottle. I spotted some familiar faces from high school—Jane and Alec Cevasco, the twins from Brooklyn, and Rosalie Hale, who always scared the living shit out of me, even if I've never talked to her. I thought I had spotted Tanya in the circle as well, but brushed the thought aside. Abruptly, I carried Bella in my arms over to where the group was—they were all almost useless, the lot of them drunk as skunks. Jasper quickly went to Rosalie by instinct, and luckily, she gave him an almost straight answer, although hiccupping.

"She lives on the apartment on top of mine," She slurred, and started to laugh.

"How did you two get here?" I asked.

"I drove," Rosalie said. "But Bella and I will be fine," she said, grabbing Bella's limping leg. She let go of it quickly, and I caught Tanya glance away from me, still bitter about our break-up. She was the most sober one out of the group, as I guessed she would be their designated driver.

"Rosalie—" I began, stammering. "You wouldn't mind if we just took Bella home tonight, would you? Do you want to go home? We can take you there, if you want. You could just tell us where it is,"

"We live at Arlington Place; she lives in 10B." She slurred." And nooooo thanks, I'm definitely staying," Rosalie continued, and I saw Jasper roll his eyes. He made his way to Tanya swiftly, and I heard him say something along the lines of "Promise me you're not going to let her drive like this." Tanya nodded respectfully, and soon, Jasper and I were on the way to his Volkswagen.

I lay Bella as gently as I could in the backseat. "Where did she say she and Bella lived?" I asked Jasper in a fit of panic.

"Arlington Place. It's not far. I could take her there." Jasper said sternly, and soon, we were off.

We reached Bella's apartment within a few minutes, and Jasper fumbled in her sling-on purse around her shoulder for the right key. As soon as the door opened, Jasper held it open for me and I carried Bella to the elevator. Jasper pressed the number 10, as my arms were full, and as soon as we made it to her floor, he searched again for the right keys for apartment 10B, Bella's flat.

"Are you sober enough to take care of her?" Jasper asked. "I still have to go back for Alice." He said, and I shyly thanked him for his utmost concern for my sister, and how he had trusted her enough to have alone time with her girls.

"Sure thing," He said, before heading towards the door. He gave me a serious look before leaving. "You put her to bed, and leave right away. That's it. And don't forget to lock the door." He said, and closed it behind him.

Now alone with Bella, I slowly opened the door to her room, which was luckily, unlocked. I put her gently on the bed and tucked her inside the sheets. She gave out a soft "Mmhm", and I was scared she would wake. My heart started beating fast, but I sat next to her on the bed, exhausted from the party. Maybe I could sleep as well, for just five, measly minutes. Then I would be off, walking home.

"No, you stupid fuck, go home _right now_", I said under my breath, mentally slapping myself. I stood up from my position, leaving Bella a last glance. She looked serene and peaceful in her sleep, and I stood there in awe watching her as her chest slowly moved up and down, her breathing deep.

"Edward," she mumbled softly, and I was taken by surprise. Did she know I was here?

"Edward, stay," she said, her eyes still closed. She shifted slightly from her position. "You've been… away… long enough," she mumbled, soft snores escaping from her lips, in between the words. "Please stay,"

I sauntered forward, not being able to deny her of her request. Suddenly, the fact began to dawn on me that I was here, in Isabella Swan's apartment, and she was here, in New York. Should I even try to rebuild our friendship? I missed her. I missed her terribly. But she must hate me now, with a passion. "Lying fuckhead", she called me, among other names tonight.

But she was here. She was beside me, begging for me to stay. I felt like I wanted the world to stop; that everything was perfect. She was here, and she was beautiful.

"Stay," she said again, lightly pulling at my polo shirt. I kicked my shoes off at her request and place my legs inside the sheets. I could lay here forever and forget the world and this city—nothing else mattered tonight. I was here with Isabella Swan, and there was no use in denying it anymore—I wasn't over her.

I placed a soft kiss on her forehead and smoothed out her hair, but just about as my eyes were about to drift off to sleep, I felt a soft grip on my hand; she was now awake, her eyes on me.

Panicking, I sat up, but Bella's grip only got tighter, and she opened one of the lamps on her bedside table.

"I'm—I'm sorry—" I began, stammering. "I could leave now if you want and—"

She shook her head slowly, and her eyes looked almost desperate, pleading. She shifted forward nearer me, and began to cup her hand against my face.

"I—" I began, but she put a finger across my lips.

"Shhh," she said, hushing me. Soon, she pressed her lips against mine, hard, and I drowned in her.

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**Okay, I'm sorry. I know I promised lemons, but they're going to have to wait until the next chapter again, which I will also be posting shortly (hopefully), as I've already reached more than my word limit. I'm terribly sorry, but since they meet anyway in this one, I hope that it's enough to make it up to you guys. Again, I apologize! Lesson learned, I will plan out my chapters better from now on. :( **


	10. Crash (Into Me)

**WARNING/PLEASE READ: This chapter will contain lemons/full-on kinky shit; if you are under the age of 18 or are uncomfortable with reading anything with lemons in it, I suggest you skip this chapter, and just wait until my next one comes up in a while. I apologize.**

**Anyway, special shoutout to my bestest friend in the world, Madie, who helped me write this chapter and whose undying support helps me get through this whole writing adventure. I lalalalove you to the moon and back! Squee.**

**Thank you also to all the followers and reviewers; your kind words and readership always make my day. Thank you for choosing to read my story. Much hearts and love from me! You all keep me going. :D**

**Chapter title credits goes to Dave Matthews Band's song Crash Into Me.**

**Enjoy.**

***EDIT: I overlooked the fact that I had written that Edward was 20 when he should be 18 as he and Bella are only starting off college. Thank you to Caitie126 for pointing that little error out! I have now changed it.**

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**BPOV**

Was I dreaming? Likely. Most probably.

Before me stood a fully grown, 18-year-old Edward Anthony Cullen; and I was so, so sure that my mind was trying to play another one of those dirty I'm-too-drunk-for-the-life-of-me tricks again. But the fact was, dreaming or not, he was here, with me in my room, his auburn hair and perfectly chiseled face sitting before me.

And he was beautiful.

And although I hated him with a passion, although I relentlessly despised him for lying to me with the promise of returning all those years ago—there was no denying the fact that I longed to be in his arms at this moment.

He was staring at me, sitting absolutely still, but I slowly moved forward to touch him, cupping my hand against his cheek. It was warm, and I felt a spark flow through me as our skin made contact; like electricity in my veins. I let out a small gasp in response, not loud enough for him to hear, and opened the lamp on the bedside table. His widened at the sight of me awake, panic in his features.

"I'm—I'm sorry," he began, stammering. "I could leave now if you want, and—"

Useless words.

I put a finger across his lips, and hushed him. And as soon as I felt the soft texture of his smooth lips against my finger, I wanted to be inside them, in between them, inside his mouth. I had always found Edward Cullen attractive, even in our younger days, when he was still the skinny, limpy eleven-year-old that he was. But now, before me, was no longer a boy, but a man.

And as I had said: he was beautiful. He was astonishingly, breathtakingly, fucking beautiful.

I violently pressed my lips against his, and I felt him surrender as he put his tongue inside my mouth. It explored mine in depth, crashing against me. I responded by grabbing the back of his head, grasping his hairs, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue furthering inside my mouth.

"Edward," I gasped, as soon as I let go. He proceeded to plant several violent kisses against my neck, and I moaned, hard, the pleasure of it consuming all of me. _Fuck_, I thought to myself. Likely-Imaginary-Edward was way better than Mike Newton at prom night; I didn't even have to fake any of my moans.

"Bella—" Edward gasped in between his own moans. "Bella—I want you," he said, and I leaned forward, letting myself inside his mouth once more. This time, the kiss was more aggressive than the last.

"I want you, too." I admitted, breathing heavily after pulling off.

I started to unbutton his polo shirt, and clumsily assisting me, he fumbled to undo the little buttons one by one against the faint light of the bedside lamp; finally taking off his shirt, I sat still, awestruck.

The word "fit" would be all but a pathetic understatement to describe Edward Cullen's body, I suddenly realized. His chest was hard, and I wanted to press myself against it so badly. His abs were gorgeous, and I could tell that he worked out on a regular basis—he was now so different from the eleven-year-old I used to know, I thought, and after a few seconds of staring, I finally snapped out of my stupor, lunging towards him, licking and biting his ear aggressively.

"You like that?" I said, more of a statement than a question. He nodded quickly, and I proceeded to rubbing the inside of his thigh. "Fuck," he whispered, and I felt a seductive smile escape from my lips as I moved my hand nearer his shaft. "Jesus Fucking _Christ_," he said, and I felt proud of myself.

I unbuttoned his jeans, and he willingly kicked them off wildly to the floor, along with his boxers. Gently I started rubbing his penis until it began to stand, and soft moans escaped from his lips once more.

"Faster," he breathed. "Faster."

I did as I was told, and began to move my hand up and down against it, kissing its tip. But abruptly, Edward sat up before I could finish, and pinned me down against him on the bed. Kissing me passionately, he suddenly lifted me up, holding me by the ass, and pushed me against the wall.

I smiled. He was now pressed against me, and the only thing he was wearing were his black socks. I bit his ear again and he moaned, responding by finally touching my vulva from under my skirt.

And my god, it felt like bliss.

He rubbed his hand against the top of my genitals in a slow, but aggressive, circular motion, and I was helpless—I could do nothing but call out his name, "Edward", I would moan. "Fuck, Edward," I said over and over.

"Take it off," he breathed, unzipping my dress from my back, and I slid out from it, taking off my shoulders from the halter straps. Edward put his right hand under my bra and squeezed one of my breasts softly, and I felt my nipples go erect right away. Holding his back, I fiercely planted passionate kisses on his neck, his throat, his chest. He whimpered, and forcefully, I pushed him towards the bed, and as I lay on top of him, he quickly took off my underwear.

I smiled at him, showing my teeth, raising my eyebrows.

In a second, he quickly pulled a condom from out of the pocket of his jeans that lay on the floor, put it on quickly, and in a flash, he was inside of me. I felt myself cry out his name once more. "Edward," I said, and he went in, even deeper. "Fucking _hell_, Edward,"

Again we shifted our positions, and I was now below him, his hand against my bookshelf headboard.

"Fuck," he muttered, and I moved my hips up and down to the rhythm of his pumping. "Fuck," he said again, this time cupping my face with his left hand, beads of his sweat dropping onto me.

Reaching orgasm, I gave out a lustful sigh, as did he. He let go of the headboard, planted a soft kiss on my forehead, and closed his eyes briefly. I heard him mutter something, and as I listened closer, he said "So beautiful," under his breath, over and over. "So fucking beautiful," he said, now lying on the bed next to me.

I scurried over nearer him and put my head softly against his chest, and I felt his heartbeat thumping wildly. _Thump, thump, thump_, it went, and I played with his bronze locks.

"You're so perfect," he said, muttering again. I closed my eyes, pulling the ochre sheets on top of us. I felt, at the moment, that if this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

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**Sorry if it's a bit short—it's my first time writing lemons in the history of like, ever, so let me know what you think!**


	11. Morning After

**I have the best news (sort of) in the world! This fic recently reached almost TEN THOUSAND VIEWS as of today, so I felt the need to thank you guys. If you want to see my horrible, make-up-less, I-Just-Woke-Up-So-My-Hair-Looks-Terrible-And-I-Didn't-Bother-Fixing-It-I'm-Sorry face, then help yourself to this video, where I personally thank you, the readers, for all your kindness. watch?v=5HOv6qKasUA I would have never gotten this far without you guys! **

**Also, a little correction from the last chapter. I was thinking about my own age when I wrote that Edward was 20 in one of the first few paragraphs—thank you again to Caitie126 for pointing out the typo. Yes, Edward and Bella are both around 18 as they're both incoming college freshmen. I've fixed that along with some spelling and grammar errors that my cousin Justine was nice enough to point out for me. She has eyes like a hawk.**

**Anyway, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. Here is a much needed update. Song is credited to the band Drip's "Morning After".**

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**BPOV**

The sun shone through the bay window and into my eyes as I squinted against it; I was still not used to this amount of light, as it was always dark and cloudy back home in Forks. I sighed. It was morning again, and as soon as I fully blinked my eyes open, I felt a headache begin to form, and I furrowed my brows. This wasn't the first time I've had a hangover.

Yawning, I tried to recall the events from the previous night. There was a party, I remembered, and I wondered how I had gotten home. Rosalie must have brought me here, I decided, and I left a mental note to myself to text her in a while. Now sighing, I also tried to recall last night's dream; and I remembered dreaming about Edward. I dreamt that he had brought me home instead, and that he was here on my bed, and we—

Jesus Christ.

I scrunched up my forehead. What a strange dream, I told myself. And how vivid it was! I knew that I despised Edward Cullen and his unkept promises, but there was no denying the fact that I found so much pleasure in the events that happened last night, if they even took place at all. I recalled his perfectly chiseled features, his fine jaw, his emerald-green eyes that shone against the faint light of my bedside lamp. And his body—my god, I had pressed myself against it so tightly, and never wanted to let go. I never wanted to wake up from the dream.

I knew it was wrong to want Edward, and I told myself that I hated him over and over; but slowly and unconsciously, I began to play around with my lady parts, rubbing circles on its top. I thought of Edward's long, slender fingers, and I pushed my own inside of me, sighing deeply as short breaths escaped from my mouth. Bliss_._

As soon as I had hit the point of pleasure, I gave out a last, heavy sigh, and stretched my legs—but instead of an empty space on my bed, they were met with someone else's.

I felt the hairs of the back of my neck stand up. _What the actual fuck?_

Had I drunkenly brought in a guy in my room after last night's party? And the events from last night—did they actually happen? Had I brought in some poor guy from Grove and pleasured myself to the thought that it was Edward Cullen instead that I had done the deed with?

Whatever it was, there was no mistaking it. Hangover or not, I was sure for the life of me that there was someone on the bed. Still lying on my side and facing the other direction, I quickly pressed my foot against the leg of whoever it was I had slept with the previous night, and dragged my toe against the sole of his socked foot. I heard a soft chuckle escape from the other person's lips— "Don't do that," he laughed softly and playfully, his voice thick from sleep. "Don't do that," he said again.

Holy _shit._

I would know that voice anywhere.

It was deeper—a lot deeper than it was from the seven or eight years that I last heard it. But I was sure. I knew who this person was. But of all the people in the world to have slept with—could it possibly be?

Afraid to confirm my fears, I quickly spun around from the bed; the person beside me was completely hidden in the sheets, and they were covering even his head. My heart was now thumping fast, and it felt like hammer against cloth. There are over a million people in New York City, and more than a hundred who attended last night's party. It couldn't be.

Biting my lip, I quickly took off the covers from the head of the person; and there, there asleep on my bed, lay a fully grown Edward Cullen, a small smile still playing around his lips from when I had dragged my foot against his. Soft snores were escaping from his lips, and his breathing was deep and easy.

My eyes widened. This couldn't be happening.

"_HOLY SHIT!"_ I screamed in a fit of panic, not believing my eyes. Edward Cullen was here. In New York City. On my bed. Beside me.

_This couldn't be happening._

At the sound of my voice, Edward suddenly jerked awake and sat up in a flash, but his forehead quickly crashed into mine as he shot up from the bed with a loud "thump", and I heard him cry out a deep, loud, _"MOTHERFUCKER!"_ I hissed in response, wincing in pain from the collision.

His eyes were closed tightly, and the palm of his hand was holding his forehead, that I guessed was throbbing. I was now standing up in one corner, almost cowering at the confirmation of the worst of my fears, holding the ochre sheets against me to cover my naked body.

His hand still against the spot where our foreheads met and his eyes still closed, Edward's ears turned pink.

"What the _fuck_ is your problem!?" He cried loudly.

I gaped at his accusation. "_My_ problem? What the fuck are you doing in my bed!?" I shouted.

And at the very sound of my voice, his eyes suddenly shot wide open, and he sat still, his jaw agape. I stood in the corner, staring at him. I had no idea what to do. I wanted to run away from this mess, but I was frozen in place.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered, his eyes still wide, eyeing me directly.

"Stop looking at me!" I shouted, shifting inside the sheets that I was holding. It looked like a sort of gown now, flowing to the floor. Edward quickly realized that I was wearing nothing from under the sheets, and he abruptly put his left hand on his face, covering his eyes. I could tell that he was as nervous as I was; his ears were still glowing a bright shade of pink.

"Bella?" He asked, his voice cracking. "What are you doing here? And how—how the hell did I get here?"

"What am I doing here?" I cried. "This is my house! And how the fuck should I know how you got here?!" I responded, and I felt like I wanted to cry.

His hands still covering his eyes, he fumbled across the bed, now searching for his clothes. I spotted them lying on the floor along with my floral dress, and I threw the dark blue polo shirt and jeans at his direction immediately, hands clumsy and shaking.

"I'll—I'll leave," I said, still in a fit of panic. "Just get—fuck—just get dressed," and I bolted out of the door wearing nothing but the ochre sheets I used to cover me.

Sitting on the couch, I was dazed, but more than dazed, I was confused. What the hell just happened? How did Edward and I end up doing each other last night? How did he even know where I lived? Was I the one who took him here?

Desperate to answer the questions, I tried to piece the events from last night together. The last thing I remembered from the party was choosing "dare" over "truth" or "shot" while playing spin the bottle with Rosalie, Jane, Alec, and their friends; but the dare that I took from them, I did not know.

"Urgh!" I bawled in frustration, hitting the couch against the palm of my hand. My head throbbed from the hangover. I have been to parties in high school, but I had never gotten drunk enough to have sex with someone and not remember who it was the morning after.

And with _Edward Cullen_, of all people.

Tears silently began to stream down my face—I had no idea what to feel. Was I glad that Edward was back? Was I embarrassed that this was how our little reunion turned out like? Was I angry at him, angry that we had done it? Surely we must have done it consensually—I remembered the dream so vividly. If anything, I had been the one who started everything, hushing him, putting my finger against his lips.

Slowly, the door of my room creaked open, and there Edward stood, now fully clothed, his hair a mess.

"Bella?" he asked, and he went near me. My emotions were still a mess; I had no idea what to feel.

"Bella?" he said again, concern evident in his voice. "Bella—are you crying?"

"I-" my voice was now thick with tears. I wiped them against the sheets I was holding against me. I had no idea what to do. I needed to clear my head.

"Can you—I'm sorry, Edward, but can you go?' I asked him, covering my face in the sheets. I couldn't look at him.

"I'm—I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I'll go now. But please don't cry anymore," he said, and I felt his footsteps come near me. I quickly raised my hand to stop him.

"No," I said sternly. "I need to think right now. Please—please just leave," and he let out a defeated sigh.

"Okay, I'll leave." He said. "But please don't feel bad, because I don't know what happened either." I shook my head at him, and I could tell he wanted to comfort me, but I shook my head all the same.

"Please take care," He said, and his voice was laced with the sincerest concern.

I heard the door close softly, and with a gentle thud, Edward was gone from my life once more. I was alone again.

~O~

I couldn't sleep that night, but Rosalie gave me a visit in the morning after Edward's little trip to my bedroom. Apologizing for being too drunk to take me home with her, Rosalie said she couldn't remember anything as well, but that Tanya recounted to her how we'd played spin the bottle, and how she, Tanya, had to bring most of the people in the group home in her mini-van, including Rosalie.

"I'm never getting that hammered in my life again, I swear." She huffed. "Who knows what could've happened?"

I gave her a sad smile. "Yeah," I agreed. "Who knows?"

Rosalie eyed me, a look of concern on her face. "Did something happen?" she asked, and I sighed in response.

"Nothing—I just," I began. "I bumped into an old friend that I thought I would never see again," I said. "Until yesterday,"

Rosalie raised her eyebrows. "Then shouldn't you be happy? You look like you just lost yourself a pet hamster or something," she joked, but I only sighed again.

I told her all about Edward, but leaving out certain details, like his name. I told her all about how he and I had been the best of friends for many years, how he had to leave for New York when we were eleven, and how we had lost touch since.

"And he was at the party?" Rosalie asked, now hugging me. I felt confused and empty at the same time as I responded. "He was," I said. "And I slept with him."

Her eyes widened at my confession. "You _what?" _she gasped, putting her fingers on her lips in surprise, now letting go of the hug and facing me.

"It's fucked up, I know," I said, and I buried my face in my hands. "I don't know what to do, or feel," I admitted, and she put her arm around me, trying to give me comfort.

"It's okay," she started. "We fuck up in life a lot of times, Bella. But we have to let these things go, eventually. Forget about it." She said. "Do you want to contact him? Did you get his number?"

I shook my head. "I don't know if I do want to contact him. I feel so embarrassed—what a way to meet each other again after almost a decade!" I said, laughing sarcastically at my comment.

"That's fine," Rosalie said. "Don't do anything until you're sure of how you feel. You might end up regretting something later on."

I let out a deep breath, and tried to look on the bright side of things instead. "He was amazing, though," I winked, and Rosalie laughed.

"What?" I asked, remembering how I had lost my virginity to Mike at prom. "He was way, way better than the last one I banged. That last guy, his kisses were all wet and sloppy," I recalled.

"Bleagh," she replied, now smiling at me. "That's the worst."

Feeling a little chipper, Rosalie and I baked some cookies and gave some away to our other neighbors, including a cute little 7-year-old named Bobby, who was more than pleased to meet my acquaintance. By the time dusk had come, I watched my much awaited Friends marathon on my laptop until I fell asleep. Rosalie was right—I shouldn't do anything that I wasn't sure of. I wouldn't try to contact Edward until I felt ready, maybe not in a really long while, and that would be quite alright.

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**You'll be in for more surprises soon. ;) I'm as excited as you are! As always, reviews are like candy.**


	12. (505)

**PLEASE READ: Fair warning/apology before you continue reading this chapter.**

**I am currently attending university in Manila, in the Philippines, my home country. I have never, ever set foot in the United States and therefore have absolutely no idea how college/university works there. I researched a bit, but couldn't find what I needed to know, which is if "floating subjects", as we would call them in my university, or "general subjects" are offered in NYU. General/Floating subjects, in the Philippines, are basic subjects required to be taken by all students, no matter what degree they are aiming for, before proceeding to their respective major subjects. Examples of Floating/General Subjects include Statistics, College Algebra, Spanish, Political Science, etc. etc., which aren't always offered in high schoo here, so we take them in college instead.**

**Anyway, yes, as I can't get the information I need from NYU's website (or Yahoo Answers), and because it would be too much of a hassle to research any further than that, I'm just going to go ahead and assume that general/floating subjects are offered in NYU/in the States as well. If they aren't, well, this is a work of fiction after all. So I will leave it at that.**

**Anyway, chapter title credits go to the Arctic Monkeys' song of the same name. Enjoy.**

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It was now around my second week in New York. I'd decided to bury all memories about the night I spent with Edward deep down in a special, metaphorical chest inside my head, and I forced myself to lock it up and throw away the key of said chest, that is, until the day came that I decided that I was ready to face those particular monsters. Which would probably be never, I decided.

Sighing, I blinked my eyes open, and they were met by the bay window of my room. It was dark outside, and the new alarm clock on my bedside table announced that it was around 6 in the morning; my first day of college would start in a little less than 2 hours. I sat up and rubbed the palm of my hand against my right eye, ridding it of sleep, and let out a deep, long, exaggerated breath. "Good morning," I greeted no one in particular.

I sat up from my place and made the bed, neatly folding the sheets before I proceeded towards the kitchen to make myself some breakfast and some much needed coffee. Just as I had started to turn on the coffeemaker, three knocks surfaced on the door.

"Open up!" the voice from the other side said. "It's Rosalie!"

I smiled. We talked a few nights before, and compared our class schedules. Rosalie and I shared some classes together, as she was aiming for a degree in both Social Science and Psychology. Today, and for the rest of the semester, we had Introduction to Psychology together, as well as Elementary Statistics in Research. I was beyond psyched.

Opening the door, I was taken by surprise. Rosalie was already fully dressed, hair and make-up already done. She had a backpack slung around her shoulder which I felt matched the outfit she was wearing perfectly: brown pumps, and an old, white Pearl Jam shirt that had ripped sleeves. She wore a flannel polo on top of it, which I guessed was probably an older brother's, or an ex-boyfriend's.

"You're—you're ready? School doesn't start until 2 hours!" I exclaimed, but she only rolled her eyes as she let herself in my apartment, putting the flannel polo on the hook of the back of the door and settling her backpack and herself on the couch. She gestured for me to sit down with her, and so I did.

"I've been up since 4am," Rosalie shrugged. I laughed. "I can tell you're not the least bit excited," I commented sarcastically, taking a bite of my toast.

"You can never be too early on the first day," she replied. I asked her if she wanted some coffee, although I went to the kitchen and made her a cup anyway before she could answer. She smiled a warm smile in thanks, and proceeded to sip. Entertaining herself with my laptop, I took a shower while Rosalie waited and I got dressed, putting on a pair of ballet flats, black skinny jeans, and, following Rosalie's move, chose a band shirt. My dad never liked the Sex Pistols, but his friend Harry gave him a shirt of the band's anyway, which I had stolen. I rolled up the sleeves of the peach-colored shirt, and stepped out of the bedroom in seconds.

"Nice and simple," Rosalie nodded slowly. "I like it."

We made it to school in around 15 minutes in separate cars, and after parking, immediately rushed to the Silver Center, the main building of the College of Arts and Sciences. We settled ourselves into Introduction Psychology as soon as we found the room, and also as soon as we finished asking several upperclassmen (most of who were insanely gorgeous) how to get there. And Rosalie was right; after introducing me to Brad, a fellow Grovian who also happened to be in Introductory Psychology, I decided that yes, okay. Grove kids who attended NYU were hot. There was no other way to put it.

"He's hot, isn't he?" Rosalie whispered, as if she'd read my mind, and I nodded in response. "Very," I agreed.

This was okay, I told myself. I was doing great, not thinking about Edward. The metaphorical chest inside my head had indeed sealed itself shut, and as soon as Edward's face came to mind, I abruptly brushed it off and felt proud of myself. "Hmph," I snickered.

"Something wrong?" Rosalie asked. "You were kind of zoning out back there, and then you just… made a weird sound,"

I laughed it off. "I was just—it's nothing," I replied.

We parted ways after that first class, as she had to attend some of her Social Science classes, and I, the rest of my Psychology ones; but Rosalie and I promised to meet in front of the Silver Center for Elementary Statistics in the afternoon, with some other science majors.

The rest of my classes were more than fun, and one of the professors, Dr. Lambert, made my day, along with the rest of the class—he pulled off the funniest jokes and side-comments along with his lecture, and I was surprised that professors like him existed outside of high school. I could get used to this.

2:30pm came swiftly, and soon, it was time to meet Rosalie at the front of the Silver Center for Elementary Statistics. I spotted her in the crowd soon enough, and she waved a big wave at me, and I was surprised to see that she had dragged Jane along with her.

"You go to NYU too?" I asked her as soon as she and Rosalie reached the spot I was at in front of the Silver Center.

"No, I just missed you guys too much." Jane said. "So I decided to go for a short visit."

I furrowed my brows. "But—"

Jane laughed her musical laugh. "I'm kidding, Bella. I totally go here. I'm a Biology major!" she said, and I gave her a quick high-five. "Psychology," I responded. "But don't you have class?"

"Oh, she has class with us," Rosalie said casually, looking at her nails. "Elementary Statistics. We're having it with Biology majors this semester." She continued.

Jane shrugged. "It's weird, I know. I have a few classes with Anthropology majors, as well. But I've met a few great people already! It's great here!" she giggled.

We made our way up the stairs and into the room where our Elementary Statistics class was to be, and we quickly chose our seats. We sat somewhere in the middle of the large lecture hall, and made ourselves comfortable, trying to spot guys that we'd found attractive.

I quickly gestured to the guy that sat on the farthest side of the front row, to the right. He had messy, blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, and a look on his eyes that read "douchebag". He looked a tad familiar, spinning his pencil on his right hand over and over, trying to look cool.

"What do you think of that guy?" I asked Jane and Rosalie, and at my question, they rolled their eyes in unison.

"That's Jasper Whitlock. Major douchebag. He went to Grove, as well." Rosalie said, eyeing him.

Jane continued. "He was a bit immature, too," she commented.

"A little? Try a lot!" Rosalie replied, rolling her eyes again. "Remember those pranks he and Edward Cullen used to play on all of the teachers, and the freshmen?"

I felt myself suddenly choke on my own spit.

"W-who? I stuttered, my eyes wide. Did I just hear Rosalie mention you-know-who's name in front of me? I felt my metaphorical chest in my head swing itself open, and all thoughts that contained Edward suddenly sprung into my consciousness, and I felt like I wanted to vomit.

"Is something the matter again?" Rosalie asked, a look of concern on her face. I continued coughing, still choking on my own spit. Jane rubbed my back until I felt a little better, and I began to breathe deep breaths. The two friends looked at me with caution, as if I would explode at any minute mf they so much as uttered something that didn't sit right with me.

And then, lo and behold, as if on cue, a boy around six feet tall entered the room, backpack slung against his right shoulder, holding a textbook that was as thick as two Bibles and as wide as an Oxford dictionary.

"Oh, would you look at that, there he is!" Jane sighed, looking at Edward with intimate eyes. Edward went forward to the boy with the dirty blonde hair, who had now stopped spinning the pencil around his hand, and they gave each other a quick fistbump.

"Edward!" Jane called out from our seats. Edward began to walk towards us at the mention of his name, and I quickly ducked under desk. Rosalie suddenly looked at me on the ground, where I was crouching like a baby tiger. She narrowed her eyes at me, confused; I grabbed her by the collar of her Pearl Jam shirt, and she responded with a loud "what the actual fuck?"

I whispered loudly in her ear, ignoring her. "That's him, dude. Jesus Christ, that's him. Oh god."

"Who's him?" she asked, still confused.

"That's _him,"_ I replied, emphasizing the last word. I muttered under my breath. "Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god."

Realizing what I must have meant, Rosalie quickly pulled the sleeve of my shirt and whispered loudly as well, in response. "If this is who I think you're talking about—you better play it cool, bitch. Stand the fuck up!" She said, and I did what I was told, abruptly leaving my position on the floor and sitting back down on my desk.

My eyes were suddenly met with Edward's, which started to widen. He furrowed his brows, looked behind him as if checking up on his friend with the dirty blonde hair (who also looked as shocked as he was) and proceeded to look back at me.

"It's so good to see you, Ed!" Jane said, giving him a quick hug. He responded, patting her at the back twice, although he was still eyeing me, his jaw still agape.

"You know Rosalie, of course," Jane said as soon as she let go of the hug, and proceeded to gesture towards me. "This is—"

"Bella?" Edward asked, dumbfounded. Panicking, I decided to follow Rosalie's advice, and played it cool.

"Edward," I simply said, chin up.

I realized then that my hair was all over the place from abruptly crouching down to the floor, but I brushed it off of my face and tucked a piece behind my ear instead, feigning confidence. I reached out my hand to his, and he shook it slowly. He was still gaping.

"You two know each other?" Jane smiled, and she looked sincerely surprised at how small the world was, and at how me and Edward new each other. "That's awesome! We can all have lunch together sometimes then?"

"_NO!"_ Edward and I both shouted, and our faces both turned a bright shade of pink.

Jane looked at us, confusion evident on her expression.

"I mean—I have—I'll be having lunch with Jasper, you know…?" Edward trailed off, and I followed his lead.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want to leave Jasper all alone now, would we…?" I replied stupidly, and waved at the dirty blonde-haired boy, who I guessed must be the boy named Jasper. He looked behind him, checking to see if I was waving at the right person, then proceeded to point at himself, mouthing the word "me?" before I nodded and waved at him again. He waved back, also as confused as Jane.

Before things got anymore awkward, a man around twice our age barged in the room holding a piece of paper and some books, and I guessed that he would be our professor. Edward, glad to be saved from the situation, mouthed a quick "I'm sorry, excuse me," before he ran towards his seat next to Jasper.

"What the hell was that all about?" Jane asked, her forehead scrunched up.

"I'd rather not say right now," I replied quickly, grabbing my notebook and pen, creating random squiggles with the ink out of frustration.

Just then, the professor cleared his throat and began calling roll. I eyed Edward over at his seat as he let out a creaky "Here," when his last name was called out, and I let out a soft "Present," when it was my turn. The professor barely heard me, and I had to repeat what I said again. I continued scribbling randomly in my notebook until half of the page was full. I have never been so frustrated in my life, save for when I'd woken up next to Edward on my bed.

"Alright, first thing's first," the professor said loudly. "I am Dr. Darcy, and no, I do not respond to Dr. D, or D-Dog". The class laughed, but I remained still in my desk. "Second thing on our list of things to do today," Dr. Darcy cleared his throat before he continued, "You're all going to have to pair yourselves up in two for the rest of the semester, for the final output of this class."

Oh god.

Please don't assign random partners please don't assign random partners please don't assign random partners.

"Dibs on Bella!" Rosalie said, and the rest of the class began to look for partners.

"There shall be no need for the commotion, I can assure you." Said Dr. Darcy, and he took the piece of paper he was holding from earlier, and neatly unfolded it.

Fuck.

"Sometimes you end up working with people you like, and sometimes, you don't. That's how it works in the real world." Dr. Darcy continued, and cleared his throat again, hushing the class. "Therefore I've taken the liberty to assign you guys random partners, also to save on time." He said, and gestured towards the white sheet of paper he had just unfolded.

"Shall we begin then? Mr. Edward Cullen and… Isabella Marie Swan? May I see your hands, please?"

_Motherfuck._

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**Of course, I bet you all knew that that was coming. Reviews are lalalalove, as usual. Squee.**


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